I'll Pretend You're Still Here
by Blaze0843
Summary: What better way to get over it all than to lie to yourself? One-shot. R&R please.


**Author****'****s ****Note****:**

**Hey ****there ****guys****! ****I ****know ****I****'****m ****still ****writing**** "****Dreaming ****of ****Paradise****," ****but ****I ****just ****had ****to ****get ****this ****out****. ****See****, ****I ****recently ****was ****playing ****some ****L****4****D****2, ****and ****my ****friend ****and ****I ****were ****playing****... ****aw ****hell****, ****he****'****s ****not ****my ****friend****. ****He****'****s ****like ****my ****brother****! ^^ ****Anyway****, ****we ****were ****playing**** "****The ****Sacrifice****" ****level****, ****me ****as ****Zoey****, ****and ****him ****as ****Bill****. ****I ****realized ****that ****he ****was ****going ****to ****sacrifice ****himself****, ****but ****it ****just ****hurt ****me ****even ****more ****since ****Zoey ****and ****Bill ****have ****a ****father****-****daughter ****relationship ****similar ****to ****our ****own****. ****And ****so****, ****I ****just ****had ****to ****get ****all ****these ****feelings ****down ****on ****paper****. ****I ****swear****, ****I ****shed ****a ****tear ****when ****Bill ****died****... ****Enjoy****!**

Why was it so damn hard to let go? The stages of grief had passed already, hadn't they? Maybe it was just her imagination. Maybe she would fall asleep, wake up the next day, and discover that it was just a dream. A very lucid dream. But it was on her own conscious that the memory would be forever burned into. No matter how hard she tried, how hard she wished, it would never go away. A scar on her completely pure mind. Okay, that was an overstatement. Blowing the heads off of zombies didn't exactly make her pure. But she had saved mankind. Wasn't that enough?

Feeling a sense of despair, her right hand delicately clung to her shirt, as if she were pulling on her heart. Although it wouldn't help, she silently wrapped her other arm around herself, as if she were giving herself a great bear hug. Curling up like a crybaby wasn't her. It wasn't the Zoey that he had once known. He wouldn't have wanted this, would he? Dammit, why did he have to be a martyr? Didn't he know how much she cared for him? How they all cared for him? Why did he have to go and act so foolishly heroic. It was his belief that mankind would once be free of this apocalypse, but he didn't have to sacrifice himself.

When he left those others to die, she felt like she didn't know him any more. Why did she have to call him a selfish bastard? What compelled her to push him farther away when she needed him closer than ever? Because now, she felt that he had passed away with the thought that she hated him. That she would never forgive him. Why the hell did it take him to die in order for her to realize that he truly cared. He cared, just not for others. He cared, just not in the way a normal person would. Then again, none of them were normal. None of them could ever be normal again.

"_Zoey__, __you__'__re __younger __than __me__. __I__'__m __getting __old__, __probably __won__'__t __live __much __longer__. __I __want __you __to __live__. __You __**have **__to __live__." _

His haunting words relived in her mind, sending a shiver up her spine. The distant memory of her jumping on the machine gun haunted her. Why couldn't she have thrown a pipe bomb, try to distract the horde from attacking him? She should have done something. Something was better than anything!

When she had said this to herself out loud, Francis and Louis disagreed. They told her that she had done all she could. In fact, she had done everything Bill wanted her to do. The cover she offered gave him just enough time to make it to the generator before being mauled by the three tanks. But she had told them that she should have done more.

"_Zoey__, __you__'__re __like __my __daughter__... __the __daughter __I __never __had__. __You __and __the __others __are __family __to __me__. __I __have __to __do __this__. __Don__'__t __try __to __stop __me__."_

Family... that word meant more to her than he knew. Ever since her parents died, she had none. The horde had corrupted her family, and it tore them apart. When her father asked for mercy, she knew it was the only thing that she _could_do. And it was the most humane thing she would have done. But could he have been a Carrier? If he was, then his death was in vain. She tried her hardest to disbelieve in that, but the more she pushed it away, the more truth it seemed to have.

That crazy old fool. It was suicide, and he knew it. Yet, he still went along with it. And it pained her to know that she let him go so easily. She should have yanked him by his arm, pull him back up and jump down herself instead. But she knew, that deep inside, he would have _never_let her do such a thing. He would have knocked her out, gave her to Francis, tell him to hold onto her, then jump down to his death. When she would have woken up, it would have just been that much more difficult.

"_Zoey__, __I __want __you __to __live__, __to __find __a __nice __boy __and __settle __down__. __Have __a __family__."_

But he _was _her family. Why couldn't that damn fool see that? He was all she had, and now he was gone. Funny how you take advantage of what you've got, then the next minute, they're gone. Wait, what's funny about that? Nothing. She should have never done that. Why couldn't she just forgive him and move on? Throughout her life, she had held so many long-time grudges, but that was one grudge she wished she could have let go. Just once. If she had just done so, it would have made his death so much easier.

No, she would never fall in love. She couldn't. Not after all of this. Her heart was stone cold and lifeless from everything. Everything from her parents' deaths, the apocalypse, and Bill's death. No, she could never move on. It was impossible. She would probably end up in a mental hospital by the time she turned thirty. Was that supposed to be her future? One of the saviors of the world, destined to become a psycho?

Why couldn't she just get over it... like Louis and Francis? It had been over two years since then. Since the apocalypse. Zombies were still running rampant, and she hadn't heard of Ellis and his group since they helped them cross the bridge. A part of her longed to see him again, but she quickly pushed these feelings aside. Emotions only get you hurt in the end. Look what getting close to Bill did to her.

But was it better to be a hollow stump or a pained girl? Would she rather feel pain or emptiness? Those questions bugged her everyday, even as they fought off the horde. It did nothing to distract her from Bill's death. She almost refused to pick up another survivor, in fear that they would replace him. No one could replace him.

That raised another question: why _hadn__'__t _she joined Ellis's group? It would have been so much easier, distancing herself from the memory of him and looking forward to her future with the group of four. With five survivors, their chances of living were far greater. So, why hadn't she? The question was unanswerable... by her.

But Bill knew. He knew it all. Why wouldn't he risk his life for the other survivors? Because it wasn't his life he was worried about. It was his groups', Louis and Francis... and Zoey. They were more important to him than strangers he had never met before, weren't they? That was why: she couldn't abandon the people who needed her most right now.

"_Zoey__, __are __you __still __mad __at __me__? __I__'__m __sorry__. __Truly__, __I __am__. __I __know __how __you __feel__, __but __you __have __to __realize __that __all __of __you __need __to __be __safe__."_

Zoey this, Zoey that. But she now understood. She knew what he meant. It all made sense. She may never come to accept the fact that he was gone. It may be a scar that will never heal. Maybe one day, when it's all over. When everything is back to normal, and civilization is rebuilt. The survivors would repopulate the Earth, and maybe not make seven billion more zombies to fight off.

"Zoey!" The familiar voice of Francis called from the depths of her thoughts. Realizing that she had been crying, she swiftly wiped the salty water that trickled down her cheek and stared up at him after having laid down. He groaned and waved his gun. "What the hell are you doing? C'mon, help us clear the way to the McDonalds! I'm starving!"

She couldn't help but let out a laugh. Grabbing her sniper rifle that lay at the foot of the couch, she loaded it with a few shot before slinging it over her shoulder. Jumping off, she took one last deep breath and let out a sigh.

If she couldn't get over him, then she'd just have to lie to herself.

"Don't worry, Bill. I'll pretend that you're still here."

**Well****, ****there ****ya ****have ****it****! ****Please ****R****&****R****, ****and ****don****'****t ****forget ****to ****check ****out ****the story ****I****'****m ****currently ****writing****! ****I ****might ****make ****more ****of ****these ****in ****the ****future****, ****maybe ****some ****AU****'****s ****where ****other ****stuff ****happens****... ****or ****I ****might ****write ****down ****some ****funny ****stories ****when ****my ****bro ****and ****I ****were ****playing ****L****4****D****. ****Anywho****, ****iluvuallandbyelol****.  
_**


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